


This Space And Time

by JangJaeYul



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Fluff and Smut, Football | Soccer, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, just a lot of unprotected sex, what the hell is a condom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 08:24:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12477396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JangJaeYul/pseuds/JangJaeYul
Summary: The only thing worse than playing opposite the best striker in the game is having that striker be your secret boyfriend who rewards your improvements with varying degrees of kinky sex.Minseok is eighteen, a new striker desperate to prove himself worthy of being on the team. Luhan is twenty-five, has held the other striker position for almost eight years, and likes to give Minseok interesting incentives to play well in each game.





	This Space And Time

Minseok jumps when Luhan’s hand lands on his back while he’s tying his cleats.

“Watch out for their goalie,” Luhan says, voice low and serious. “I’ve played him before, if you don’t get it right past him he’ll smack it back into your face.”

Minseok swallows hard and nods, tucking his laces under their tab with fumbling fingers. Luhan has mentioned this to him before, how he’s faced this goalie a couple of times in his career as a star striker, but Minseok is new to this division of the league and this is his first season on the field. Having Luhan beside him as the other striker is reassuring, if sometimes a bit intimidating. Luhan has been at this for years, playing professionally almost as long as Minseok has been playing _at all_. Minseok was the wunderkind in his amateur team, but now he’s up with the big guys and it’s a miracle if he manages to play a single game without fucking up in some small but significant way that makes him want to crawl back under his small town rock and never emerge back into the world of professional football ever again.

His nerves do not get any better when Luhan leans down and murmurs into his ear, “Tonight, I’m going to make you come as many times as goals you score.”

Minseok can’t help the whimper that escapes his throat at that, because it’s either a promise or a threat depending on how badly Minseok does tonight. The only thing worse than playing opposite the best striker in the game is having that striker be your secret boyfriend who rewards your improvements with varying degrees of kinky sex.

Luhan pats his back reassuringly, as if he’s just given Minseok some strategic tip rather than the most distracting pre-game talk ever, and moves off to talk defense with Baekhyun.

“ _Oh, Christ,_ ” Minseok whispers to himself.

-

Minseok scores his first goal of the night with the single-minded determination that carries him through every game: the desire not to fuck it up, to prove himself worthy of the shirt on his back, with all the history and camaraderie that it represents. It is only when Luhan’s congratulatory butt-slap has an edge of grab in it that Minseok remembers what a goal entails. He breathes a sigh of relief, galloping back down the field to begin again.

His second goal he scores by the blood of his knees, skidding past the defense to muscle the ball into the goal, his mind less on the actual reward than just the sheer bloody-mindedness of proving Luhan wrong. Because this feels like a challenge, now. This feels like Luhan taunting him, holding satisfaction over his head and daring him to score it back. So Minseok does. The graze on his knee, the blood trickling down his shin where his guard has come loose, are nothing to him beside the pride on Luhan’s face when Minseok looks. Minseok fixes his shin guard and pulls his sock back up and gets back in the game.

At one point Luhan looks to be setting up for a goal, weaving easily through defense, and Minseok is chasing after him in case one of them gets the ball and Minseok needs to wrestle it off them to pass back to Luhan. But then suddenly the ball skids sideways off Luhan’s boot, right in front of Minseok, and Minseok just goes on automatic and punts it straight into the goal. When he turns around, disbelieving, the gleam in Luhan’s eyes tells him the fumble was far from accidental.

The look on Minseok’s face when he scores his fourth and final goal of the night - by pure chance, finding himself three feet ahead of the nearest defender and the goalie on the far side of the goal - defies description.

Minseok scarcely even registers that the goal was game-winning. All he can think, as Chanyeol and Sehun lift him off his feet and bring him down in a scrum of celebration, is that he scored _four whole goals_ and that means he’s going to be coming _four whole times_ tonight.

-

“Minseok,” Luhan calls across the locker room, as they’re all coming out of the showers, “I need a word with you when you’re changed.”

Minseok just nods, because that’s fairly normal teammate talk, striker to striker, sharing tips and discussing strategy. He fights the blush out of his cheeks and dawdles as inconspicuously as possible, taking his time cleaning and patching up the cut on his knee, checking his shin guard to make sure he didn’t tear one of the straps on it. He’s so successful in his time-wasting that he’s only half dressed when Yixing calls out a goodbye and shuts the door behind him, and Minseok realises he’s alone with Luhan.

“Good game,” Luhan says, appearing in front of Minseok where he’s seated on the far bench with his duffel bag on one side and his dirty gear in a small pile on the other.

“Thanks,” Minseok says, looking up from turning his shirt the right way out. “You too.”

Luhan’s smile is more than half smirk as he says, “I wasn’t the one who scored four goals tonight.”

“That’s a shame,” Minseok says, and in the time it takes him to pull his shirt on over his head Luhan’s expression has gone from smug to downright predatory.

“I don’t think so,” he says, teeth dragging ever so briefly across his bottom lip, but it’s enough to set a fire in Minseok’s blood. Because suddenly he realises - this wasn’t just a challenge to Minseok. That’s why Luhan passed him the ball instead of taking that goal himself. It was a challenge to Luhan as well - to see if he could keep up, if he had enough stamina left over after a game to take Minseok through four rounds.

Minseok leans back slightly on the bench. It’s a subtle invitation, but he knows Luhan will recognise it for what it is. Sure enough, Luhan swings a leg over the bench and takes Minseok by the shoulders, pushes him down to lie lengthwise along the bench, his head pillowed on his duffel bag, legs sweeping his kit onto the floor in a clatter of shin guards.

Luhan’s lips are warm on Minseok’s, his hands already pushing Minseok’s shirt up out of the way so he can get his mouth on Minseok’s chest. His legs are under Minseok’s thighs, and as he surges forward to kiss Minseok again he folds him almost in half, grinding their crotches together as he nips at Minseok’s lower lip.

“Luhan,” Minseok groans, hands scrabbling at Luhan’s back, then gasps as Luhan circles his hips, rubbing their already hardening cocks together. Minseok sends up a silent prayer of thanks for the invention of sweatpants, because he can feel _everything_ and it’s sending sparks of pleasure up his spine already.

One of Luhan’s hands leaves Minseok’s shoulder and reaches above his head for a second, and then Luhan sits up with a triumphant laugh. Minseok squints, and realises Luhan is holding the small bottle of lubricant from the end pocket of Minseok’s duffel bag.

“Good boy,” Luhan says, and Minseok barely has time to savour the warmth that spreads through his chest at that before Luhan’s mouth is back on him, moving south down the line of his abs. Luhan’s hands make quick work of the drawstring of Minseok’s pants, and then they’re somewhere out of sight and Luhan is kicking his own pants off onto the floor, boxers too, and pulling Minseok’s briefs down to his ankles.

There’s something deliciously illicit about this. The locker room door isn’t locked, and anyone could walk in - Coach, or the cleaners, or even one of the team. Chanyeol’s jacket is still hanging up on his peg, and he might yet realise he’s missing it and come back to collect it. If anyone were to walk in, they would be greeted with the sight of Minseok, naked from the waist down, on his back on the wooden bench with his knees pulled up to his chest and two of Luhan’s fingers already knuckle-deep in his ass.

The realisation of this makes Minseok moan, his hips shoving back against Luhan’s fingers to push them deeper.

“You’re so eager,” Luhan says, curling his fingers to hit something that makes Minseok cry out, his hands clutching frantically at the bench beneath him to keep from falling off.

“Desperate for my cock,” Luhan continues. He’s mouthing at Minseok’s stomach, lips and tongue moving against the muscles as they clench spasmodically in response to his touch. As Minseok whines high in his throat, Luhan’s mouth moves down, nose tracing along the trail of hair that starts just below Minseok’s belly button and continues down. Luhan presses his lips to the base of Minseok’s cock, runs his tongue along the underside, traces up to the head and laps at the very tip. Minseok is writhing on the bench, his fingers gripping the sides, biting his tongue in a futile attempt to stifle the high-pitched moans that Luhan is coaxing out of him with his fingers and tongue.

“Do you deserve it?” Luhan growls, now three fingers deep in Minseok and working the other hand over his own cock. “Do you deserve my cock, Minseok?”

“Yes,” Minseok gasps, when what he really wants to say is _God, I hope so_.

“Yeah, you do,” Luhan chuckles, and then his fingers are withdrawing and something else is pressing at Minseok's hole instead.

Minseok cries out as Luhan pushes into him. No amount of stretching can ever seem to truly prepare him for the size of Luhan's cock. It's easily the biggest thing Minseok's ever had inside him, and he's shopped on Bad Dragon.

“Yeah, baby,” Luhan hisses. “Oh, you look so good, stretched around my cock.”

“Fuck,” Minseok whimpers, gripping the bench so hard his knuckles feel like they're going to break. Luhan leans forward, taking one of Minseok's legs with him, and Minseok cries out again at the angle Luhan sets.

“How's that?”

“Fuck,” Minseok repeats, a whisper this time, then again, louder, as Luhan pulls out and thrusts back into him.

“Oh, yeah,” Luhan groans. “Yeah, Minnie, oh fuck, you're so good. Taking my cock so good.”

With his feet planted on the floor either side of the bench Luhan has the leverage to fuck down into Minseok at a brutal pace that has Minseok's eyes practically rolling back into his head within a minute. He tries holding Luhan’s gaze but it’s so overpowering he feels like he’s going to come right then and there, so instead he focuses on his underwear, still dangling from the foot still hooked over Luhan's shoulder while the other is pressed against Luhan's chest.

“So good,” Luhan repeats, “so good for me, baby. Yeah, fuck, let me hear you.” His hand grabs Minseok’s chin, surprisingly gentle for the brutality of his thrusts, and pulls just enough for Minseok to unclamp his teeth from his bottom lip and open his mouth to let out the moan he’s been holding back. The sound seems to spur Luhan on, and he begins pounding into Minseok hard enough to shunt him up the bench.

“Oh, fuck, Luhan-” Minseok is crying out on every thrust now, one hand unclamping from the bench to grab his own cock, stroking over it at the same pace that Luhan is driving into him. “Luhan,” he gasps, “Lu- I’m gonna come, I’m gonna-”

“C’mon,” Luhan urges, “come for me, Min.”

His hand tightens on Minseok’s chin and Minseok’s jaw loosens, his mouth falling slack as he comes with a groan all over his stomach and chest, striping the bunched up fabric of his shirt with white.

“Yeah, baby,” Luhan growls, his hips driving faster and faster into Minseok. “You want me to come inside you? You want me to ruin that beautiful ass?”

Minseok is beyond words at this point, but he gurgles out a strangled noise that he hopes Luhan understands as a plea. His prayer is answered a moment later when Luhan grabs him by the hips, driving forward one last time and coming with a grunt, his hips pressed flush against Minseok’s ass.

It’s a minute before Minseok can draw enough breath to speak. He’s still seeing stars when Luhan pulls out of him, still dazed when Luhan leans forward and presses a kiss to his stomach just below the belly button, still incapable of coherent thought when Luhan picks up his discarded towel and wipes the mess off his stomach and between his legs. He comes back to himself as Luhan is sliding Minseok’s briefs back up his legs, easing them over his ass for him and bending down to pick up his sweatpants from the floor.

“Come on, Min,” Luhan says, voice rough as if from screaming, “get dressed. Let’s go home.”

-

They’re barely even halfway home when Luhan pulls over. His hand has been on Minseok’s thigh the whole way, just resting there at first, then stroking, squeezing, groping, and finally-

Luhan cuts the engine and unbuckles his seatbelt, and Minseok barely has time to ask what he’s doing before Luhan is leaning over him, reaching around to pull the lever on the side of Minseok’s seat and slamming him back down flat, his seatbelt whipping away with sudden force as Luhan unclips it and rolls half of his body over onto Minseok’s seat.

“Lu, what-”

Luhan doesn’t even bother to kiss him. His hands are on the waist of Minseok’s sweatpants, pulling the tie, pushing at the elastic, shoving it down and out of the way so he can slide one hand into Minseok’s underwear and pull out his cock.

“Oh god.” Minseok’s voice cracks on a whisper as Luhan’s hand begins working his cock. He’s not even hard yet - though he’s getting there fast - but Luhan is already licking at the head, dragging it back and forth across his mouth like some lewd form of lipstick. Minseok can feel all the heat rushing to his legs, his stomach, and he’s lightheaded just at the sight of Luhan looking up at him, fluttering his eyelashes just for a moment, and then slowly sinking down onto Minseok’s cock.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Minseok groans, because the sight of those lips wrapped around him would be enough to drive him wild any day of the week. Luhan’s head is bobbing up and down now, his eyes closed, and it’s the most beautiful thing Minseok has ever seen.

His hand drifts almost of its own accord down to rest on the back of Luhan’s head. Luhan moans, the sound vibrating through to Minseok’s very core, and rolls his head back against Minseok’s hand, so Minseok weaves his fingers into the longer part of Luhan’s hair and tugs. Luhan groans again, loud and filthy and partially obstructed by Minseok’s cock hitting the back of his throat. Minseok tightens his grip and, at another noise of encouragement from Luhan, begins to take control. He pushes Luhan down, past the point where he can feel his cock hitting Luhan’s throat, until Luhan’s nose is buried in the dark curls at the base of Minseok’s cock and Luhan is almost choking, struggling to breathe through his nose as his throat works around the head of Minseok's cock. Minseok pulls back, and Luhan slides off until he can suck at the very head, his tongue laving at the underside, tracing the vein there and moaning greedily at the trickle of precome that draws.

“Luhan,” Minseok says, and Luhan’s eyelashes flicker briefly in acknowledgment. Minseok pushes Luhan down again, not quite all the way, and thrusts experimentally up.

The moan that greets this lights a fire under Minseok’s hips. He thrusts again, curling his hips up to drive into Luhan’s mouth, holding Luhan’s head exactly where he needs it to hit that tight spot just at the back of his throat. Luhan makes a small noise at each thrust, whether pleasure or pain Minseok isn’t quite sure, but he knows from experience that at this point there is often little difference between the two.

“Fuck, Luhan,” he whispers, craning his neck off the seat to watch the way Luhan’s eyes jolt closed with each thrust. “Fuck, your _mouth_ , I can’t- oh fuck oh fuck _oh fuck-_ ”

He comes hard, jerking Luhan’s head at an angle as he gives one last stuttering thrust. He shoots mostly into Luhan’s mouth, one spurt hitting his cheek and running down the scar beneath his lip, dripping off his chin onto Minseok’s hip. When Minseok releases Luhan’s head, falling back into his seat with a vocal sigh, Luhan ducks his head to lap up the fallen drops from Minseok’s skin, sucking the last of it from the tip of his cock and giving one gentle little kiss to the head before straightening up and tucking Minseok back into his pants.

Minseok expects Luhan to reach for his own waistband, but instead he just returns to his seat and fastens his seatbelt.

“Buckle up,” he says, almost conversational save for the husk in his voice, the rawness of having Minseok's cock rammed repeatedly into his throat. 

Minseok sits up and clips back in, hands fumbling uselessly on the buckle for a second before managing to push it in. When he looks up again there's a smirk playing at the corner of Luhan's mouth.

-

Luhan unlocks the front door with one hand. The other is resting on the small of Minseok's back, whether reassuring or possessive Minseok isn't sure. The door swings open, Luhan guides him gently through and pushes it closed behind them, they drop their bags, and then there's a moment of stillness. Minseok looks up at Luhan, whose expression is ambiguously pleasant, and he wants to fidget, or shuffle from foot to foot, but instead he stands perfectly still and just looks.

Luhan steps forward and wraps his arms around Minseok's waist.

“You're not expected home tonight, right?”

Minseok shakes his head. Being all of eighteen, he still lives with his parents for the time being, but they've learned not to mind when he comes home late or not at all some nights. He's “out with the team”, or “hanging with a couple of the guys”, or “having post-match drinks” - all of which are normally code for “face down in Luhan's bed, screaming into the sheets while being pounded to heaven and back.”

Tonight, he feels, will be no different.

“Good,” Luhan murmurs, reaching up to tuck Minseok's hair behind his ears in one those tender moments of his, which are no less unexpected for all their frequency. Then his other arm tightens around Minseok's waist and pulls him up into his toes so that Luhan can duck his head and kiss him.

Minseok clutches Luhan close, hands in his hair, which is still damp from the showers. The game feels like so long ago, Luhan's whispered promise a lifetime away. _Four goals_. Minseok feels an excited flip in his stomach which has nothing at all to do with Luhan's hand on his ass. Everything else aside, he did really well tonight.

“I'm proud you,” Luhan mumbles against his lips, as if reading Minseok's mind. “You were so good. You should have seen Coach's face when you scored that last goal.”

Minseok kisses him, grinning. “I was too busy getting tackled.”

“Oh yeah.” Luhan laughs. “Baekhyun and them.” He doesn't say anything further, just hoists Minseok up, one hand under Minseok's thigh to encourage it up over his hip. Minseok wraps both legs around Luhan's waist with a surprised laugh, clutching onto Luhan's shoulders.

They don't get very far - Luhan's foot hits the edge of the bottom stair and he falls backwards, catching himself with a hand on the rail as Minseok's feet come down either side of him. Instead of picking himself up, though, he just sits down on the stairs and pulls Minseok into his lap.

“Really?” Minseok giggles against his kiss as Luhan's hands begin edging up under his shirt.

“You expect me to wait?” Luhan breathes, hitching Minseok's shirt up to get his hands on his chest.

His lips are all over Minseok's throat, sucking at the tender skin, and Minseok has to gasp out, “no hickeys” - because it is one thing to stay out all night and crash at a teammate's house, but it is another thing entirely to come home the next day covered in lovebites where your mother can see them.

Luhan gives a hum that conveys both agreement and disapproval, and tugs Minseok's shirt off over his head so he can mouth down his throat to his chest.

“How about here?” He murmurs, lips trailing over the soft skin next to his nipple. “Can I leave one here?”

Minseok should say no, but the edge of Luhan's teeth against his skin is like fire through his chest, so he nods. Luhan just licks over the spot for a moment before latching his mouth more firmly into Minseok's skin and sucking.

“Fuck,” Minseok whispers into Luhan's hair. One of his hands is cupping the back of Luhan's head, holding him close as the other clutches at the fabric of Luhan's shirt. Luhan's hips are moving in little circles under him, and Minseok can feel him getting harder, his erection pressing into the space just behind Minseok's balls with every gentle thrust.

“Fuck, Luhan,” he repeats, rocking his hips helplessly as Luhan's mouth works over his chest, sucking and biting and licking over every mark he leaves.

“I want you,” Luhan mutters into his skin. “Fuck, I want you right now.”

He pushes Minseok upright, enough that he's almost standing and Luhan can grab his sweatpants, hook his fingers into Minseok's briefs and yank them down to his ankles. Minseok steps out of them and kicks them away onto the landing, then folds himself back down onto Luhan's lap.

“Oh, baby.” Luhan runs his hands over Minseok's chest, around his waist, down to his hips. He smooths his hand over Minseok's ass, grabs one cheek and squeezes. “You're so fucking hot. That little cock, so hard for me.”

Minseok blushes, realises he should probably feel indignant at his cock being called “little”, but to be fair he's nothing beside Luhan. It's hardly a fair comparison.

Luhan's fingers migrate into the crack of his ass, tracing down until they can circle around his hole. Minseok is still loose, slick from leftover lube and the last trickle of Luhan's come, but there's a slight burn anyway, a drag against the skin as Luhan pushes two fingers in.

“Yeah, baby,” Luhan whispers, kissing the blush across Minseok's cheeks. “Does that feel good, Minnie?”

Minseok nods. His mouth hangs silently open as he rolls his hips against Luhan's fingers.

“You want my cock?” Luhan murmurs. “Or do you want to come on my fingers?”

“I want your cock,” Minseok gasps. Whines, almost. “Please, Lu, I need your big cock in me, filling me up, fuck, I want to feel you for _weeks_.”

“Yeah,” Luhan groans, pulling his fingers out of Minseok to reach down and fumble at the tie of his own pants. “Yeah, fuck yeah, you're gonna take my cock so good, make you feel so nice.”

He shoves his pants down, and Minseok stands up on shaky legs, steps back to grab them and pull them all the way off. Instead of climbing back into Luhan's lap, though, he kneels down in front of him, two steps below, and pushes Luhan's legs apart so he can lean forward and take his cock in hand.

“Oh yeah,” Luhan breathes. His eyes are heavily lidded, watching hungrily as Minseok ducks his head to lick a stripe up the side of his cock. “Yeah, baby. You gonna suck it for me?”

Instead of nodding, Minseok opens his mouth around the head and slides down, taking as much as he can into his mouth. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Luhan's head fall back; his moan runs a current through Minseok's bones, lights up the nerves in his fingers and toes, and he takes a deep breath and sinks further.

Fuck, it feels impossible. Minseok can barely take more than half, and it already feels like he's dying. He fights the urge to choke, takes a calming breath through his nose, and pulls back up to suck at the head.

“You look so good, baby,” Luhan is murmuring, one hand petting through Minseok's hair. “Such a good boy, trying so hard for me.”

Minseok wonders whether Luhan knows what lengths Minseok is willing to go to for that kind of praise from him. Encouraged, he slides down again, taking Luhan deeper and deeper until there are tears in his eyes and he has to pinch his thigh to keep from gagging.

“Fuck,” Luhan says, as Minseok comes back up leaving a trail of saliva behind him. “I need you, oh God, I need you now or I'm gonna explode.” He pulls Minseok by the shoulders, drags him back up into his lap, and Minseok gasps as their cocks brush together.

“Shit,” he whines. His whole body thrills to Luhan's touch, his hands tracing down Minseok's spine like an electric current.

“Come here,” Luhan says, and he wraps his arms around Minseok to lift him up, encourages him to hold on around Luhan's neck. Holding him there like that, he reaches down under Minseok and rubs over his hole again. Minseok whimpers as Luhan pushes one thumb inside, whether testing or teasing Minseok isn't sure.

“You ready?” Luhan murmurs into his ear. Minseok nods frantically, beyond caring whether there's enough lube left in him to make this comfortable. Luhan pushes his finger in one more time, rubs around the rim, then withdraws and shifts Minseok slightly in his arms. Minseok makes a desperate noise in his throat when he feels Luhan's cock pressing against him, then moans as Luhan lowers him down just enough for the head to push halfway inside.

“Yeah,” Luhan breathes, pulling him back up and teasing Minseok's rim with the head. “Yeah baby, you want my big cock in you? You think you can take it all?”

Minseok nods with a broken breath against Luhan's neck. He's clutching Luhan's shoulders so hard he's probably going to leave bruises, but Luhan doesn't seem to care. He pushes Minseok down again, pausing when the head of his cock slides inside and Minseok whimpers, teeth gritted against the drag of skin on sensitive skin.

Luhan swears under his breath, and his hips twitch up a fraction. He's trying not to go too fast, trying not to hurt Minseok, but he's clearly desperate to bury himself deep, and so Minseok calms his breath with an effort and lifts his chin off Luhan's shoulder.

“Come on,” he whispers, with a kiss to the skin behind Luhan's ear. “Come on, Lu, I can take it.”

Luhan groans and drops him a fraction, and this is torture. The slow drag is unbearable, Luhan's cock so close to the place it needs to be and yet crawling, prolonging the agony of the moment before it all falls into place.

Minseok unwinds his arms from around Luhan's neck and pulls back. Luhan's still holding him tight, still moving at a glacial pace, and when Minseok looks down he catches a look in Luhan's eyes that he’s only seen a few times before. It's the look that Luhan gets when Minseok ends up at the bottom of a dogpile with three big defenders on top of him, when he gets tripped and faceplants into the turf at top speed. That one time Minseok ran into a goalpost during practise and Luhan was the one to sprint the width of the field to check if he had a concussion while the rest of the team were still laughing. That time they tried something a little kinkier and Minseok had a bad sub drop afterwards, and Luhan carried him down to the couch and tucked him up with a cup of cocoa and the softest blanket and stroked his hair for half an hour, whispering praise and reassurance until Minseok smiled and stretched up for a gentle kiss.

This is the look Luhan gets that tells Minseok he means more than just sex.

“Hey,” Minseok says. “Come on, baby, I can take it. I've already had it once tonight.”

Luhan nods, that soft look still lingering on his face, and lets Minseok fall.

Minseok shudders out a moan into Luhan's shoulder as Luhan lights up everything inside him from root to tip.

“Yeah, there, right there-” he gasps as Luhan's hips curl up, edging his cock deeper and hitting every good spot inside Minseok.

“God.” Luhan's hands fix to Minseok's waist and squeeze. “Fuck, you're so tight, babe.”

Minseok rolls his hips, drawing a groan from Luhan, then adjusts his feet on the stairs and pushes himself up. With his hands braced on Luhan's shoulders he rises until the head of Luhan's cock is just stretching his rim, then drops back down. Simultaneous moans break the air, and Luhan's grip tightens on Minseok's hips.

“Yeah, baby, just like that.”

Minseok does it again, then shifts his feet more comfortably and does it once more. Luhan is moaning now, encouraging Minseok with his hands, urging him up and driving him back down.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Minseok sobs, as Luhan’s cock rams into his prostate so hard he feels like he’s trying to punch through it. His thighs are beginning to hurt, but Luhan’s hands on his hips are insistent, so he keeps bouncing, allaying the pain with the delicious drag of Luhan’s cock over every sensitive spot.

“Oh babe,” Luhan groans. His hands have moved to Minseok's thighs, helping lift him up in between squeezing, groping, massaging-

“Luhan,” Minseok says, grits out between his teeth as Luhan hits his prostate again. “Lu- God, you're so-”

Luhan lets out a ragged moan, and when Minseok lifts his head from Luhan's neck to look at his face his eyes are fixed at a point over Minseok's shoulder. Minseok turns, cranes his neck to see what Luhan is looking at, and feels his stomach clench with arousal.

He's scared himself half to death a fair few times, coming down to get a drink in the middle of the night and catching his own shadowy reflection in the mirror opposite the stairs. Now, though, it's an unexpected blessing - in it he can see the pale skin of his back, streaked with the red traces of Luhan's nails; the curve of his hips, spreading out to his desperately working thighs; and beneath, the place where Luhan disappears into him, the drag of skin as Minseok rises up, the hollow as he falls. He watches for a handful of seconds, mesmerised by the connection of their bodies, then glances up, catches Luhan's gaze in the mirror, and turns back to kiss him with a hunger he hasn't felt since this was all new.

“Minseok,” Luhan whispers into his lips, voice cracking, breath coming in gasps against Minseok's skin. “Baby- fuck-” he buries his face in Minseok's shoulder and adjusts his grip on Minseok's hips, then pulls him up and drags him back down.

Minseok bites back a cry as Luhan nails his prostate harder than ever.

“God, Luhan, oh God, I'm gonna come- keep going keep going don't stop-”

“Yeah,” Luhan grunts, hips pistoning up to meet Minseok halfway through a fall. “Yeah, baby, you gonna come on my cock?”

“Fuck, Luhan- touch me, I'm so close, I'm gonna-”

Luhan groans and lets go of Minseok's hip to wrap one hand around his cock.

“Come on, baby,” he murmurs, “I wanna see you come for me.” His hand tightens, his hips smack up to meet Minseok's, and as he winds his arm around Minseok's waist to drive him down onto his cock again, the tightly wound coil inside Minseok finally snaps.

Minseok curls forward, head hitting Luhan's shoulder as his hips spasm and jerk in Luhan's lap.

“ _Fuck!_ ” He grinds out a sob, his fingers clutching helplessly at Luhan's shoulders as wave after wave of blinding pleasure wrack his body. Beneath him, Luhan's hips are still twitching up, pushing deeper into him, Luhan's breath harsh against Minseok's neck as he chases his own high.

“God, Minseok,” Luhan breathes. His arms are solid around Minseok's waist, dragging him down onto every desperate thrust, beginning to stutter, driving in harder, further-

Minseok moans again as Luhan comes inside him, filling him up and pulsing out around the last weak thrusts as Luhan rides the ebb of his orgasm.

“Christ,” Luhan whispers after a long moment of ragged breath. “That was fucking incredible.”

Minseok agrees with a soft hum. He makes a half hearted attempt to push himself up off Luhan, and doesn't make it half an inch. As he collapses against Luhan's chest, it occurs to him that he's essentially just done a couple hundred squats in quick succession, and with all the adrenaline now dissipating in favour of a comfortable fuzz, he's not going anywhere anytime soon.

“How are you doing, baby?” Luhan murmurs, one hand brushing the sweaty hair back off Minseok's forehead as the other strokes warmth down his spine.

Minseok just groans, and Luhan gives a breathless chuckle.

“You tired?”

Minseok nods into Luhan's neck. “Mhm.”

“You want a bath?”

A second of consideration, another nod. “Mhm.”

“Okay, then. Let's go.”

Minseok expects Luhan to help him to his feet and lead him to the bathroom, but the next second Luhan's arms are wrapped around his waist and under his knees, scooping him up bridal style and carrying him up the stairs.

“Mmm,” Minseok mumbles. “You're strong.”

Luhan's laugh is soft, adoring.

“It's as if we're not in the same gym every morning,” he says.

Minseok smiles vaguely, cracking an eye open to look up at Luhan as they enter the bathroom.

“Is this why you spend so long on the weights?” he asks.

“Yes, darling,” Luhan replies as he sets Minseok down on the toilet and reaches over to turn on the bath taps. “For the express purpose of carrying you.”

“Good,” Minseok smiles. “I like it.”

Luhan looks up, and there's an honest pleasure in his eyes that Minseok hadn't expected. He says nothing for a moment, just looks at Minseok, a soft sort of fondness playing around the corners of his mouth.

“I'll be right back,” he says finally, pushing himself to his feet and leaving the bathroom.

He returns less than a minute later with Minseok's bag, which he sets down on the floor while he leans in to turn the taps off.

“Here,” he says, dipping his hand into the end pocket, “your eyes must be tired.”

He's holding out Minseok's contact lens case. Minseok takes it, pinches the lenses gratefully out of his eyes and drops them in the fluid, then leaves the case on the counter. At Luhan's fuzzy smile, his beckoning hand, Minseok stands up and lets Luhan help him into the bath.

He moans as he sinks into the water. His muscles begin to unwind, his bones relax, his eyes slip closed as Luhan guides him back to lie down until his shoulders are covered.

After a moment there’s a trickle of warmth through his hair - Luhan is scooping water onto his head, gently rinsing the sweat away, his fingers working softly across Minseok’s scalp. Minseok opens his eyes to look up at him; even through the myopic blur through which he has to filter everything, Minseok can see the sweetness underneath Luhan’s concentration.

“Hey,” Minseok murmurs, voice cracking just slightly.

Luhan blinks, smiles. “Hey,” he says. “You okay?”

Minseok nods. There’s something he wants to say, words pressing against the back of his throat, but he can’t do it, doesn’t want to ruin the perfection of this moment with something he’s only just realised is true.

Instead, he says, “are you gonna get in?”

Luhan shakes his head. “This is just for you.”

Minseok smiles and lets his eyes fall closed again, lets Luhan wash his hair, lets him rinse the come from his chest and gently from around his abused hole.

“You still awake?” Luhan whispers, when Minseok’s body is clean and Luhan’s fingers are now just tracing paths through the water, lapping it up over Minseok’s shoulders to cascade in tiny waterfalls down his neck.

Minseok nods, though truthfully he’s kind of floating somewhere between sleep and waking, lost in the gentle warmth of the water and the soft touch of Luhan’s hands.

“Are you ready to get out?”

Minseok sighs and nods again, hauls his eyes open and holds the side of the tub to pull himself upright. Luhan helps him out, wraps a towel around him, pecks a kiss to his nose as tiny droplets flick off Minseok’s eyelashes.

“Hey, cute thing,” he grins. This close, his face is clear. Minseok smiles back at him.

Luhan dries him off and wraps the towel back around him to push him through into the bedroom. He hands Minseok a pair of soft pajama pants and pulls a T-shirt over his head. It isn’t one of the ones Minseok has left here in the past - this one is bigger, softer, stretched and faded so that the picture on the front is barely distinguishable. It’s clearly one of Luhan’s own, one he’s worn hundreds of times, maybe a favourite. Minseok smiles and hugs his own shoulders as Luhan putters around the bedroom finding a change of clothes for himself as well.

“Oh, here.” Luhan kneels down in front of him and slides Minseok’s glasses onto his face. Minseok blinks as the world comes clear, Luhan’s features slipping into focus.

“Better?” Luhan smiles.

“It’s always better when I can see you.”

Luhan, unexpectedly, blushes at that. He stands up and clears his throat, trying not to look ridiculously pleased.

“Well, come on,” he says.

They go downstairs. Luhan pushes Minseok onto the couch and, after a brief interlude in the kitchen, shoves half a container of leftover chow mein at him. They eat in comfortable silence, their feet nestled together in the middle of the couch. Minseok wonders how he got so lucky.

At one point Minseok looks up and catches Luhan staring at him, eyes glazed over as if lost in thought, an absent smile on his face.

“What?” Minseok says. He wipes his chin, almost expecting to find a smear of sauce or a stray piece of noodle stuck there.

“Hm? Oh, nothing.” Luhan gives his head a little shake. “I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

Luhan leans his chin on one hand, elbow against the back of the couch. “The first time we met.”

Minseok blinks. He wasn’t expecting that.

“You remember it?” Luhan says.

Minseok nods. “Of course.” Mostly because that kind of terror tends to sear itself into your memory on a permanent basis.

“You were so cute,” Luhan says.

“I was scared shitless,” Minseok replies.

“Really?” Luhan laughs, surprised. “Why?”

Minseok shrugs. “You all seemed so… big. And professional.” Walking into practise that first day and being greeted with fifteen unfamiliar faces, all of them clearly older than him, all of them clearly much more experienced and probably far better players, was terrifying. One of them in particular - Luhan, he realised later - eyeballed him as he walked onto the field. It was intimidating, Luhan’s arms folded across his chest as he leaned over to whisper something to Coach, followed by a smug smirk and one pointedly raised eyebrow. Standing there in the headlights of Luhan’s scrutiny was agony for the endless minute before Baekhyun noticed a new person and slung a friendly arm around his shoulder to drag him into the warm-up chatter. Now, knowing Luhan as the person he is, it is difficult for Minseok to connect him to that smug glare, the look in his eyes like he wanted to eat Minseok alive.

Although, Minseok thinks, it’s not too dissimilar to the look Luhan is wearing now.

“You know what the first thing I did was, when you walked out of the locker rooms?” Luhan says. One finger is tracing along the side of his own lip, across the line of his scar, down to his chin.

Minseok shakes his head. “What?”

“I turned to Coach,”  Luhan says, fingers now tracing down his throat, “and I said, ‘hey Coach. How old’s the new kid?’”

Minseok raises an eyebrow. That seems so innocently mismatched to the predatory curve of Luhan’s lips.

“And he said you were eighteen,” Luhan continues. “And you know what I thought?”

Minseok shakes his head. Luhan is leaning forward now, like a cat about to pounce.

“ _Legal_.”

Minseok’s eyes widen. He swallows, watching Luhan’s smirk turn into a self-deprecating grin.

After a long moment he clears his throat and says, “that wasn’t just a welcome-to-the-team drink afterwards, was it?”

Luhan huffs a laugh, shrugs. “I mean, partly.”

“But the other part…”

“A chance to get to know you.”

Not _to get you alone_. Not _to make a move_. Just… _to get to know you_. Minseok smiles.

Perhaps it wasn’t so accidental after all, the way they fell together late one night on the pitch, when Luhan made him stay late for extra practise and Minseok stuck to it until he got five successive goals past Luhan, until he was exhausted and frustrated and Luhan grabbed him by the shoulders and told him it wasn’t enough to have determination, he needed the stamina to go with it, the grit to keep going when his knees were bleeding and his lungs were aching and everyone else wanted to give up.

 _“You have to keep going!”_ Luhan said. _“You have to see the goal even when your eyes are stinging with sweat and blood, and you have to keep driving for it. If you can keep going when everyone around you gives up, then you can think about winning.”_

Minseok just nodded weakly, so close to collapsing that his legs shook every time he moved them, and yet determined not to let Luhan down, resolved to stay until Luhan said they were done. He met Luhan’s gaze, slightly blurrily - he’d lost one lens an hour into their overtime practise, when he had tripped and faceplanted into the dirt. He didn’t speak, didn’t trust himself to still have any voice left, just stood there and waited for another order, for Luhan to call another run or tell him they were finished for the night. And as he watched, the fierceness in Luhan’s face commuted into something else, something sad and hopeful and slightly desperate, and he leaned down and kissed Minseok, mud and all.

A moment of surprised silence, a gruff _“good practise”_ , Luhan turned on his heel and was two steps away when Minseok’s fear overcame his doubt and he lunged, grabbed Luhan by the hand, pulled him back and kissed him again, and then again and again, and Minseok didn’t quite make it home that night… 

“You wanted me,” he says, eyeing Luhan where he’s leaning against the back of the couch.

Luhan nods, cheeks tinged a lazy pink. “Right from the start.”

Minseok watches Luhan’s eyes, watches the sweep of his eyelashes as he blinks, and the more he looks the safer he feels, so he opens his mouth and hesitates only a second before he says, “I love you.”

Luhan looks up at him. He’s surprised, and for the space of a heartbeat Minseok thinks _no, that was wrong,_ and then Luhan’s comfortable smile spreads into a grin and he leans forward to grab Minseok’s hand.

“Thank god,” he says, pulling Minseok into his lap and kissing him. “I’ve been wanting to say that all week.”

Minseok laughs, relieved, exhilarated, and says it again, “I love you,” and Luhan whispers it back into his lips, his arms wrapped solidly around Minseok's waist, rocking him side to side.

Minseok can't recall ever feeling this happy.

-

It's when they're lying in bed, when Minseok is on the verge of sleep, just drifting in that space between thinking and dreaming, that he feels Luhan's hand shift from his waist to his hip.

“You did so well tonight,” Luhan murmurs. “I'm so proud of you.”

Minseok hums, happy and a little bashful, floating on the feeling of Luhan's hand caressing his hip.

“Such a good boy,” Luhan whispers into Minseok's ear. “You deserve one more reward.”

Minseok is about to make a questioning noise, but it turns into a moan halfway out of his throat, because Luhan has shifted closer and his erection is pressing into the small of Minseok's back.

“Lu-”

“You thought I'd forgotten?” Luhan says, beginning to kiss down the side of Minseok's neck. “I promised you - once for each goal. I've still got one owing.”

“Fuck,” Minseok whispers. Luhan's hand is tracing over his ass, fingers sliding in between his cheeks, and then he shifts back and there's the click of a plastic cap, a moment of stillness before Luhan's fingers return, now slick and cool as they circle around Minseok's hole.

“So good,” Luhan murmurs into the back of Minseok's neck. “I couldn't believe it, you just kept going, kept scoring, kept driving it home like it was nothing.” He slips a finger inside, curls it at Minseok's moan. “You made me so proud. I wanted to yell, wanted to tell everyone, _that's my boy, that's my baby that just won us the game._ You can't imagine what I felt.”

His lips are moving against Minseok's spine, his fingers twisting and scissoring inside him, and Minseok is clutching the pillow, desperately trying not to cry. He's not sure if the human body is meant to come this many times in one evening. He feels like he shouldn't be entitled to this much pleasure, to Luhan coaxing him towards yet another orgasm in such a short space of time.

“Fuck, Luhan.” His voice breaks, on the border between pleasure and pain as Luhan strokes over his prostate. He could die like this, he thinks.

“You're so beautiful,” Luhan whispers. He kisses reassurance into Minseok's neck, into his bare shoulders, into the column of his spine as he slides down the bed. He pushes Minseok fully onto his stomach, nudges his legs further apart, and Minseok has a second to wonder what he's doing before Luhan licks down over his tailbone and adds his tongue in between his fingers.

“ _Ohh-_ ” Minseok squirms against the sheets. He’s achingly hard now, rutting for friction against the mattress, but he can’t go anywhere with the way Luhan is holding him down, one hand pressing at the small of his back as the other works him open.

“God, Luhan, ff-” Luhan is licking into him, sucking on the edge of the stretched, puffy muscle as his fingers press deeper, stretch wider. As Minseok bucks back against him Luhan hums, the sound filthy between slurps.

“Fuck, I can’t-” Minseok pushes himself up on shaky arms and turns to look over his shoulder at Luhan, catches his hungry gaze and almost falls back down. “Lu,” he moans, “Lu, please, I can’t take this anymore.”

Luhan licks another stripe across Minseok’s ass and lifts his head, regarding Minseok with a tilt of his head that would almost be nonchalant if it weren’t for the flush in his cheeks, the trail of saliva dripping down his chin.

“How do you want it?” he says, and even through the darkness and without his glasses Minseok can see the heat in his eyes. “Do you want my cock, baby?”

Minseok nods, helpless under Luhan’s stare. He wonders whether he’ll be this confident, this sure of himself, when he’s Luhan’s age. He wonders how Luhan got like this, if he learned to exude confidence or if he’s always been this way. There’s so much Minseok doesn’t know about Luhan’s life, about the twenty-five years before they met. What surprises him is how much he wants to learn.

Luhan crawls forward, hands either side of Minseok’s body, caging him in as he shifts up over Minseok’s back. Maybe Minseok should feel trapped, on his stomach like this, unable to move with Luhan’s weight above him and arms bracketing his body, but instead he feels safe. Protected. Like Luhan is shielding him from anything outside the two of them, even if it’s just the darkness of his bedroom.

“Like this?” Luhan murmurs. His lips trace the shell of Minseok’s ear, sending shivers down Minseok’s spine, and he presses a kiss to the skin just at the edge of Minseok’s hair.

“Yeah.” Minseok’s voice sounds so small, even to his own ears. He bites his lip as he feels Luhan’s cock pressing against him, rubbing against the skin behind his balls.

“Yeah,” Luhan echoes, and Minseok hears the small hitch in his breath as he pushes the tip inside. “Yeah, baby.”

“Fuck,” Minseok gasps. No matter how many times they’ve done this, this moment always stops his heart: the breath just between separate and connected, when Minseok can feel Luhan holding himself on the precipice.

“Just do it,” he groans. “Lu, just-”

Luhan presses further in, and Minseok cries out. He’ll never get used to this.

“Oh yeah,” Luhan breathes. “Just like that. You like that, baby?”

Minseok can’t even nod as Luhan draws out and pushes back in. There’s an entire constellation inside him, equal parts burning and shining, lighting him up so that he can feel it even beyond the reaches of his body.

“Luhan,” he sobs, “fuck-”

Luhan rocks forward, dragging his cock through all sorts of angles inside Minseok. His breath is rough on the back of Minseok’s neck, his mouth pressing intermittently against his shoulders, his back, kissing and sucking and sometimes just resting there, panting hot against Minseok’s skin as he thrusts in.

“Min-” he snatches a vocal breath, grunts with exertion. “Fuck, you’re so- I love you, I-”

Minseok’s moan breaks halfway out of his throat, voice cracking at the feel of Luhan, over him and around him and inside him, holding his heart and promising with every desperate breath not to hurt it.

Minseok doesn’t know what to do with this feeling other than scream weakly into the pillow as Luhan slams his hips forward.

“God, I’m gonna-” Luhan’s voice is low, rough, his breath faster against Minseok’s neck now. “Are you close, baby?”

Minseok shakes his head. He’s still not getting any friction against the bedsheets, and the drag of Luhan’s cock over his abused nerves is tinged with pain, holding back the building pleasure.

Luhan grunts, pulls out, grabs Minseok’s hip and rolls him over onto his back. Instead of sliding straight back in, though, he slots himself between Minseok’s legs and just grinds there, rubbing their cocks together as he leans forward and kisses Minseok with an unexpected gentleness.

“Better?” he whispers.

“Mhm.” Minseok tilts his head up to kiss Luhan again, noses bumping, eliciting a little laugh and a goofy grin.

“Okay,” Minseok says, “keep going.”

Luhan kisses him once more, then reaches down and holds himself steady to push back in. This time, with Luhan’s lips against his and his hand brushing over the sensitive skin at the inside of Minseok’s thigh, the pleasure cuts through the ache of overstimulation and Minseok moans.

“Mm,” Luhan mumbles, eyes closed, eyebrows drawn together, “yeah, that’s good right there, huh?”

Minseok gasps in agreement, reaches up and twines his arms around Luhan’s neck. “Good- do it, fuck me- _ah!_ ”

“Oh yeah, fuck- oh fuck, Minseok, how are you still so- you’ve taken my cock three times tonight and you’re still so tight- you’re fucking amazing-”

Minseok groans, holds on as Luhan gasps praise into his throat, hips pistoning faster now that Minseok is responding with moans rather than sobs.

“You’re incredible,” Luhan is mumbling, clutching at Minseok’s shoulder blades as he drags him back onto his cock. “You’re perfect, taking my cock so well, fuck Minseok I'm gonna come-”

His hips flatten against Minseok's ass, his cock driving in deep and grinding over Minseok's prostate as he comes, gasping little broken noises into Minseok's collarbone. After a moment he slides a hand out from under Minseok's shoulder, reaches down between them and takes hold of Minseok's cock. He doesn't say anything, just strokes Minseok with fumbling, boneless fingers until Minseok is coming too, an overwhelming rush of sensation that leaves him sobbing, his head spinning, clutching helplessly at Luhan. He can't feel his own body anymore, can only feel the places where they touch, Luhan's chest against Minseok's, his mouth on Minseok's throat, the warmth of him between Minseok's legs. Beyond that is infinity.

After a moment Luhan shifts, pulls out and rolls over to lie next to him. Minseok makes a small noise in his throat - the loss of contact feels like cutting off a limb, like he can no longer define the space of his body without Luhan to mark its limits. He makes an attempt at reaching, ends up just flopping his hand down between them. Luhan meets him there, takes his hand and interlaces their fingers together, and they just lie like that for a while, just breathing each other's presence.

“Don't take this the wrong way,” Luhan says, when Minseok's heart has slowed and he can feel the bed beneath him, “but please never score that many goals ever again.”

Not even enough energy left for a laugh, Minseok snorts. When he turns his head, Luhan is grinning weakly at him, his eyes half-lidded and slightly unfocused.

“Stop making promises you can't keep, then,” Minseok says. “You gotta be able to keep going, man. Even when your eyes are stinging with sweat and jizz-”

Luhan just laughs, rolls into his side and pulls Minseok closer. He grabs a handful of tissues from the box on the bedside table and cleans the come from Minseok's chest and stomach, gives himself a cursory wipe, then throws the tissues in the direction of the rubbish and gathers Minseok into his arms.

“I'll never get sick of you,” he whispers, nuzzling into Minseok's neck. “You keep finding new ways to surprise me.”

Minseok grins up at the ceiling. Luhan always knows how to make him feel special.

As he falls asleep, he finally lets himself entertain for the first time the idea that he might be able to have this forever.

-

“Good practise, boys!” Coach calls out, slapping the occasional shoulder as the team files past him into the locker room.

Minseok stops in front of his bag on the bench. He doesn't sit down, because he knows if he does he won't be able to get back up to walk to the showers. His thighs are aching, last night still fresh in his muscles, and it's all he can do to put one foot in front of the other.

“Hey, buddy!” Baekhyun slaps Minseok's ass as he walks past. Minseok bites down on his tongue and tries not to wince. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Minseok nods, “fine. Just tired.”

“Me too.” Baekhyun stretches an arm over his head, flexing as he does so. “I think I went too hard in the gym this morning. Too many curls…”

“Oh my god, Baekhyun, shut up,” Kyungsoo calls from the other side of the room. “No-one cares about your fucking biceps.”

Minseok laughs and pulls his shirt off over his head. Before he's even dropped it on the bench, Baekhyun’s jaw hits the floor.

“Woah!”

Minseok looks up at him, and finds Baekhyun staring at his chest. Minseok glances down and promptly feels his face flush red. _Fuck._ He forgot about the hickeys. Not just one or two - at least five. Judging by the whistles from Kris and Chanyeol, there are some on his back too.

He looks back up at Baekhyun, who is now looking at him with something close to admiration.

“Damn, Minseok,” he says. “Who's the lucky person?”

Minseok blushes harder, opens his mouth but can't speak, and he's searching for words that aren't _“no-one”_ or _“Luhan, who is also gay if you guys didn't know that”_ , when a voice cuts through the chatter.

“Minseok!”

Minseok turns around. Luhan is standing on the other side of the locker room, his shirt in his hands. His chest is pristinely free of hickeys, which infuriates Minseok as much as it relieves him. Luhan's tone is casual, as though he hasn't even heard the conversation going on around him, but there's a glint in his eyes that tells Minseok he knows exactly what he's doing.

“I need a word with you when you're changed,” he says, and turns away to head for the showers without even the shadow of a wink.

 _Oh Christ,_ Minseok thinks, _not again._


End file.
